


Someone To Watch Over Me

by BucksFizz



Category: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: Additional Warnings In Author's Note, Angst, Dukat's Ego, F/M, Hero Worship, Hurt/Comfort, Naprem's Questionable Judgement, No healthy romance here, Occupation of Bajor, Pre-Canon, Prostitution, dark and twisty
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-29
Updated: 2019-10-17
Packaged: 2020-02-10 00:16:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 6
Words: 14,323
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18649021
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BucksFizz/pseuds/BucksFizz
Summary: She's only eighteen when hard times propel her up to the brothel, begging for work and extra rations. Most of her customers are cruel; their touches are rough, their words taunting.But he is nice. She likes him.





	1. Prologue

Prologue

December, 2353. (Earth Calendar)

\-----

Her bare feet pounded against the stone floors as she pelted through the abandoned corridors towards the stairwell. Tears stung at her eyelashes, her breath came in short, heaving gasps of panic. She had to stop him before he left: she could reason with him, make him see that what she’d done wasn’t so bad. She knew he would understand if he would just _listen_.

“Skrain, please!” she cried, finally seeing him emerge out into the stairwell as she rounded the last corner. “PLEASE! Stop!”

He ignored her, taking the stairs two at a time, the thump of his boots echoing off the cold walls. Naprem dashed after him, her sides aching from exertion, and cried out sharply as she suddenly tripped, her right foot catching too low on the third stair. Her knees throbbed from the impact but she dragged herself back up, determined to stop him before-

But it was too late.

“She’s all I have!” Naprem screamed at his back as he wrenched open the door to the upper level, off-limits to her, his face as hard as the flagstone beneath their feet. “Please, don’t hurt her!”

Below, another Bajoran woman scurried up the stairs, her wild brunette curls flying out behind her, and caught Naprem before she could try and barge past the guard who was stationed at the entrance to the hall. 

“Tel, let me go!” Naprem sobbed, her fingernails scratching against Tel’s bare arms as she tried desperately to free herself. “I need to catch up to him, it’s nearly too late!”

“You can’t go out there!” Tel replied forcefully, grabbing Naprem around her middle and holding her tightly to try and stop her struggling. “You’ll only make things worse!”

“But I need to stop him, what if he hurts her? Oh, Prophets, why did I tell him?” she wailed. Tears ran down her face and she collapsed down onto her knees, weeping and clutching at her hair, as she realised Tel was right: she couldn’t follow him. 

Dukat was gone.

Their baby would be next.

She had lost everything.


	2. A Little Lamb Lost in the Woods

May 2352 (Earth Calendar)

\----

Her heart was heavy, but her mind was focused and her conscience was clear. She cleared her throat lightly, but the man sitting across the desk from her in the cramped, dimly lit office didn’t even look up. Another minute ticked by in silence. She wiped her sweating palms on the skirt of her new dress, the lilac satin creasing under her touch.

It was the prettiest thing she’d ever owned, and the only reason she did own it was for this very interview. Her mother had bartered for the yards of fabric at the town market and as her belly grew with child number seven, the plain material had slowly transformed into a thing of beauty under her nimble fingers. She’d cried when Naprem had donned it that morning, and Naprem had pretended not to notice, instead focusing on the dusty old mirror that threw back the reflection of a young woman who had aged years overnight.

What little savings her parents had managed to scrimp together had been pressed into her hand, only just enough to cover the cost of the transport to the outskirts of town. Her mother had managed to stop crying by then; her younger siblings were all out at school, with no idea that they might never see her again. It was better that way. Her father, leaning heavily on his walking stick, had kissed her forehead and they had prayed together on the doorstep: for strength, for protection, and for gentleness.

She’d had to stand the entire journey – over an hour – and her feet ached before she’d even made the mile long trek down the country path towards Gul Hadar’s mansion. She wasn’t used to walking in heels, and now she had to sit with her hand covering a bloody smear on her right knee; she’d fallen twice on the gravel outside.

The man tapped at his console and the soft noise brought her out of her reverie. He was Bajoran, which had surprised her, and around his mid-thirties. He was pale, like her, and had dark hair that was slicked back into the Cardassian style that so many Bajoran bureaucrats had started to adopt in recent years. No family earring adorned his ear, and – unusually - he’d only introduced himself with a given name: Artem. 

“You’re young,” he said at last, finally looking up at her.

“I’m eighteen, sir,” she replied.

“Barely. Do your parents know that you’re here?” 

“They do.”

He raised his eyebrows at that. “I see.”

Naprem chewed at her lip, tasting the unfamiliar metallic tang of lipstick, as he went back to looking through her record. She had worried that perhaps she looked too young for the job, but her mother had insisted her youth would be an asset, not a hindrance.

“Do you understand the terms of service that I sent to you last week?” Artem asked. “They’re non-negotiable, if they don’t appeal to you then I suggest we end this now.”

“No, I understand,” Naprem replied, nodding her head surely. “I know the contract is for two years.”

“Considering your age, you might be asked to stay longer, depending on your behaviour,” Artem added, “The Gul doesn’t like breaking in new women. You’ll be paid in extra ration tokens to begin with – I assume you want them delivered to the address I have on file?”

She nodded again.

“If you start to entertain more senior officers, you’ll be rewarded with a small packet of litas per month – no more than a pittance, really. You’re not allowed to accept tips,” he said sharply. “I promise you: Hadar will find out, and it will be very unpleasant for you. Any money the customers pay belongs to him.”

“I understand,” Naprem said softly. She ground her heels against the carpet under her chair, feeling the nerves twisting inside her stomach like a whole flock of butterflies had suddenly been released.

“For as long as you stay here, you’ll be expected to maintain your health and appearance: keep to a certain weight, wash every day, no drugs, minimal alcohol. Cardassians like long hair.” He mused over her for a moment then sighed and commented, “You’ll need to dye yours.”

Her hand went reflexively to her pale blonde waves. “Dye it? But… why?”

“Cardassians don’t like blonde hair,” Artem said with a shrug.

“Oh…” She was starting to feel a little numb, and she swallowed nervously. “Okay. I can do that.” 

He studied her closely, then leaned forward, stapling his fingers. “You’re certain you want this job? It’s not an easy way to earn extra rations, a lot will be expected from you.”

“I need this job, sir,” she said, trying to make her voice as steady as possible. Underneath the desk, her fingers were trembling. “My father can’t work, my mother is pregnant, they need the extra rations. I know I’m young but I’m used to working hard and I can do this.”

Artem sighed and went back to his console. “Alright. You’re not a virgin, are you?”

Naprem blushed and shook her head. Another part of preparing for this dreaded day.

“Have you ever been with a Cardassian?”

Again, she hesitantly shook her head. Artem frowned.

“That’s not ideal.”

“They make love the same way we do, don’t they?” she asked nervously. A sharp sting on her right index finger made her wince; a tiny prick of scarlet welled up where she’d pulled the skin too hard.

He snorted. “They’ll fuck you much the same way, yes. They don’t look the same as Bajoran men, you do know that at least?”

A little nonplussed, Naprem replied, “Yes, of course.” She’d seen plenty of Cardassians, and her eyes functioned well enough to see quite clearly that they looked different from Bajorans.

Artem still looked amused, but didn’t bother pressing the issue further.

“So, all these terms sound acceptable to you?” At her nod, he pushed back his chair and motioned for her to stand. “Take your clothes off.”

After a brief second’s hesitation, Naprem got clumsily to her feet and reached up behind her back to try and unfasten her dress. Her mother had warned her that this would probably happen; they had to look at her, see that she wasn’t hiding any physical deformities or illnesses that would make her undesirable to the Cardassian eye. Her fingers fumbled awkwardly for the catch that lay between her shoulder blades, her face growing redder by the second.

“Prophets,” Artem sighed, getting to his feet. “Didn’t you think to wear something easy to remove?”

“It’s my best dress,” she murmured, shivering slightly as he stopped behind her. His hands brushed her skin lightly as he moved her hair over one shoulder. She felt his fingers deftly unfasten the clasp and she quickly slipped the dress up over her head, her fair falling in messy waves around her face.

His gaze was clinical, almost bored.

“I… I have to take everything off?” she asked, uncertain.

He arched an eyebrow and Naprem nodded quickly, reaching behind to unclasp her bra. She avoided his stare as she wriggled out of her underwear and slipped out of her wretched heels, her feet screaming in relief.

“Hmm.” Artem circled her, the floorboards creaking under his boots. He rubbed his chin thoughtfully, coming to a stop in front of her again. Naprem jumped as he cupped her jaw, tilting her head up so that she was looking into his face. He smiled slightly, and it was the first genuine one of the interview. “Shy little thing, aren’t you?”

“I don’t make a habit of standing naked in front of strangers, sir,” she replied, a slight tremor in her voice as she tried and failed to crack a smile in return.

“Well, that’s about to change.” His smile disappeared. “Assuming you pass Gul Hadar’s personal inspection.”

“Do you think I will?” she asked tentatively.

“There’s some work to be done first,” he said, looking over her body again. There was no desire in his eyes; purely business. “A sonic shower, hair removal, teeth whitening. But your skin is healthy and you’re not hideously malnourished, so I have moderately high hopes for you. Put your dress back on, we’d better get moving.”

 

Half an hour later, after he'd deemed her appropriately clean and well-presented, it was time to go to the Gul's office.

“This is the upper level of the house,” Artem said as they climbed the last few stairs. “You aren’t allowed up here unless you’ve been called for. Don’t test that rule, the guards take it very seriously. Some of them are jumpy about living in the same house as so many Bajorans, and if you run into the wrong one on the wrong day, it’s a guaranteed beating.”

Naprem ran her tongue over her newly whitened teeth, trying to clean out the sickly chemical taste that the whitening mould had left in her mouth, and looked around in wonder as they emerged into a lavishly decorated hallway.

“Oh, it’s beautiful,” she murmured, her eyes travelling over the various paintings displayed on the walls. “This must have belonged to a family from a high caste before the Cardassians took over.”

Artem threw her a sharp look. “Don’t talk of the old days; the Cardassians-"

“-don’t like it,” she finished, nodding quickly. “Sorry.”

He harrumphed and beckoned for her to follow him down a corridor that peeled off sharply to the right.

“The Gul’s office and living quarters are on this corridor.”

Naprem felt her feet begin to slow, as if she were walking through mud. After a few more paces, Artem seemed to realise she wasn’t beside him anymore and turned back, his expression inscrutable.

“It’s too late to back out now, Naprem,” he said in a low voice. “He’s waiting for you. You might as well get it over with.”

“What’s he going to do to me?” she whispered, allowing fear into her eyes for the first time.

Artem sighed and walked back towards her. “Look, he’s in a good mood. But he’s not going to make love to you; he’s going to bend you over his desk and fuck you, and it’s in your best interests to at least pretend to enjoy it.”

Her lip started to wobble, and he looked suddenly stern and reached out to gently grasp her jaw.

“Stop that,” he said firmly. “No tears. This is what you came here to do, remember? This is the way you get extra rations for your family. Just think of that. It won’t last long.”

Naprem bit her lip and nodded, willing away the tears that had started to gather in her eyes. Artem released her jaw and stepped back.

“Good. Ah, I almost forgot - you’d better give me your earring, they aren’t allowed here.”

That nearly made her lose it again. 

“Do I have to?” she whispered. Her earring was special, as was true with most Bajorans. Her great-grandmother had made it, carving it from tarnished silver into the shape of her family crest and the Tora d’jarra, leaving three thin strands of chain to hang down from her lobe. She had been a true artist, like Naprem’s mother, and the thought of losing her precious Itanu gift was almost blasphemous.

“Yes.” His tone offered no alternative, but seeing her distress, his face softened ever so slightly. “I’ll keep it safe. You can get it back when you leave.”

With shaking fingers, she unclasped her earring and lowered it into his outstretched hand, and with that simple symbolic gesture, the reality of her current situation came crashing down around her. She wasn’t going to see her family again for a long time. She had willingly walked into this den of Cardassians to be used for whatever devious pleasures they were willing to pay for, and there was no way out. One of them was waiting for her now, and she had no idea how to please him.

“Come on.” Artem steered her up towards the end of the corridor with a surprisingly strong hand on her shoulder. “It’ll be fine, stop worrying. I’ll come and collect you and take you down to your room afterwards; the other women will take care of you and give you a decent meal.”

“Okay,” she managed.

Her legs trembled as Artem reached out and rapped smartly on the wooden door. From within, she heard a deep voice boom, “Come in!”

The office was dark and she had to wait a moment for her eyes to adjust to the new lighting. The room was large and ornate, with heavy wooden panelling along the walls and a thick navy carpet underfoot. The heat was almost unbearable, and she wiped her palms on the simple blue slip that Artem had given her in place of the difficult-to-remove dress.

About ten feet away, a huge heavy desk dominated the study, and behind it, a middle-aged Cardassian man rose up, grinning broadly at them. He was tall and very broad shouldered, a fact which was emphasised by his lack of customary armour. Naprem shrank back, but Artem’s hand on her shoulder pushed her forwards and she stumbled slightly.

“Ah, you’ve brought me a treat, Artem!” Hadar boomed. “I take it this is our newest recruit?”

“Yes, sir,” he replied, his face returning to its impassive mask.

“Hmph.” Hadar stalked out from behind his desk and Naprem suppressed a whimper of fear as he approached her, towering over her slender frame. “How old is she? Doesn’t have much of a figure.”

“She’s a little malnourished, sir, but give her a few weeks and she’ll fatten up,” Artem replied smoothly. “I’ve already explained to her that she’ll need to dye her hair, but I thought you’d want to see her first.”

“Hmm, yes, I’ve got a call with Dukat in an hour,” Hadar grumbled, his eyes still on Naprem. “Best make this brief. Wait outside, Artem.”

Naprem kept her eyes trained on the floor as she’d always been taught to do around Cardassians. Her pulse raced and she closed her eyes briefly as he walked towards her, his boots coming into view.

“Look up at me, girl,” he commanded, “I need to see you.”

Steeling herself, she obeyed and raised her head. Hadar was squinting down at her, his beady eyes travelling over her face, down to her breasts.

“Slip off,” he ordered.

Her breath shuddered and she fumbled for the hem, pulling it over her head. For the second time in an hour, she stood naked before a man she’d only just met, but this felt far worse than before. While Artem had been detached, Hadar’s breathing had already quickened, a cruel little gleam had appeared in his eye.

“Not bad,” he allowed. “Come, sit on my lap and we’ll discuss your future employment.”

“Yes, sir,” she replied meekly, following him over to the small sofa that lay against the back wall. She slid awkwardly onto his lap; he wrapped an arm around her waist to keep her in place.

“Now, a little birdie tells me,” he said jovially, his free hand running up and down her left thigh, “that you are here because your parents have more offspring than the average vole.”

“There’s seven of us, sir,” Naprem replied, shifting uncomfortably on his lap. She felt ill talking of her parents while this man who was probably ages with her father had his hands on her.

“I hope that’s not a problem I’m going to have with you,” he said lightly, his fingers straying to her inner thigh.

“No, sir,” she whispered. “Artem gave me a shot downstairs.”

“Good girl. We take a very dim view of bastards in this house.” He parted her legs slightly. “And you wouldn’t want to ruin such a pretty little cunt, would you?”

“No, sir.” Her voice was barely audible as Hadar began to caress her. It didn’t feel good, she was too scared, his touch was too rough.

“When was the last time a man touched you like this?” he asked in a low voice.

“A-About two weeks ago,” she replied.

“Mmm, little slut,” he grunted. “Get up and undo my belt. Hurry up, I’m about to evert.”

Naprem had no idea what he meant, but she was grateful to at least be temporarily off his lap as she stood up and fiddled with his belt. Hadar grunted again, a low sound deep in his throat, and lifted his hips slightly to allow her to tug his trousers down around his knees. Before she could stop herself, Naprem gasped and drew back in shock.

“What?” he snapped impatiently.

“You…” she trailed off, looking up at him in bewilderment. “You don’t have a…”

Hadar stared down at her incredulously, then threw his head back and roared with laughter. “Stars! Artem must be getting desperate for girls to send you up! You’ve never been with a Cardassian, have you?”

“No, sir,” she admitted. She glanced down again at his groin, simultaneously fascinated and disturbed. Where a Bajoran man would have had a normal erection, Hadar had a slit, almost like a woman. It was covered with fine scales on each side and she hesitantly reached out to run a finger lightly down one side.

Hadar had the gleam back in his eye when she looked up for encouragement. Catching her hand he moved it to his slit.

“Cardassian men need to evert before mating,” he instructed, his voice a low hiss. “There, can you feel that?”

With his hand atop hers, he pushed down on her fingers until she reluctantly, gently, pressed them into the slit. It was moist, and she felt a sudden absurd stab of relief as she felt the tip of his penis nestled inside – finally, something vaguely familiar.

“How do you evert?” she asked uncertainly.

He chuckled. “Like this.”

Slowly, his cock began to push out of its pouch. Naprem watched, gobsmacked. Sure enough, within a few moments, the lips of his slit had opened up and his erection strained out to meet her curious touch. It was roughly the same dimensions as what she had seen in her previous limited experience, but instead of the Bajoran ridges, he had a raised circle of tiny scales around its base. He hissed as she touched it.

“Good girl. Yes, keep doing that. That’s it… now, come and straddle my lap. Show me just how much you want those extra rations.”

She was trembling as she obeyed, trying not to look down into his face as he watched her hungrily through half closed eyes while she tried to manoeuvre herself into the right position. Patience gone, Hadar grabbed her waist and pulled her down abruptly onto his cock, settling himself deep inside her in one rapid motion with a loud groan.

Naprem yelped at his sudden invasion, too startled to stifle the sound. Hadar didn’t seem to mind.

“Oh, stars, girl, you’re tight,” he growled. “Oh… I’m going to make a fortune from you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So instead of just finishing my other Dukat/Naprem story, I decided to start a whole new one! Smart, eh? This is my first attempt at using Tinsnip's Speculative Cardassian Reproductive Xenobiology, found here - https://archiveofourown.org/works/1719479  
> (Help me, I can't hyperlink).
> 
> Anyway, hopefully after I've finished this (which should be much faster than Resistance) these two will leave me alone. Constructive criticism is heartily welcomed! Thanks for reading.


	3. Seek and Ye Shall Find

The weeks passed slowly, at first. During the day, she'd been assigned to help the Cardassian servants, which usually meant scrubbing the officers' uniforms and polishing their boots, scrubbing every speck of Bajor's dirt from their crevices. It was hard work and her fingers ached, but at least she got to sit down. The Cardassians eyed her with suspicion and then derision; making remarks in Kardasi that she couldn't understand and snickering amongst themselves.

She was fast learning one word: _s'lavat._ Whore. It was a dirty slur, one that seemed to sink into every pore and display itself to everyone around her, marking her as something less than them, something just to be used.

"You'd think they'd give us universal translators," Tel grumbled one day as they sat down for evening meal. 

"Why bother?" Naprem replied dismissively. "They all speak our main dialect, more or less, and if we can't understand them then they have the upper hand. Besides, I'm perfectly fine not understanding any more of what they're saying about me, thank you very much."

Tel chuckled darkly and set to tackling her bowl of stew with gusto. They had become friends quickly after Artem had delivered Naprem back down to the Bajoran wing, still shaking from her first ordeal with Hadar’s rampant libido. They shared a cramped little room right at the end of the corridor which only consisted of two rickety old single beds crammed against each wall, a wardrobe that hung a few sad dresses and work tunics, and a little counter in the back corner where they were permitted to keep limited personal items. During Naprem’s first night, Tel had slipped into her bed and comforted her as she cried.

“The first night’s always the worst,” she had murmured. “It’ll get better, you’ll see. We all look after each other here.”

And it had, a little. The other women had pulled her into their care almost at once, protectively clucking over her and offering tips and advice. There were ten of them in total, and she was the youngest there by a good five years. 

Across from her at the table sat Laia, the woman who’d carefully dyed Naprem’s hair its now raven black hue, distracting her from the gradual stripping away of her identity with old folk stories and tales of her own family. She’d been at the mansion long enough to sign three contracts with Artem; nothing much seemed to faze her. 

Shale was much the same, though slightly younger and with darker skin. She had howled with laughter when Naprem first expressed her confusion over the mysterious Cardassian reproductive system, and once she’d managed to calm down, wiping tears from her dark eyes, had sat Naprem down for a comprehensive anatomy lesson.

“Where are you going in such a hurry?” Shale asked Tel as the younger woman gulped her dinner down in record time and got up to put her bowl back into the replicator.

“Got to write a letter to Jal,” Tel said with a smile. “He’s coming into town next month, I think Artem will let me go and see him.”

"Think again." 

As if summoned by his name, Artem walked into the dining room, holding the dreaded padd that contained their nightly assignments. Naprem liked Artem. Despite his cool exterior, he was much kinder to the women than she'd expected a man in his position to be. After the third night in a row of sex with the Gul, he'd beckoned her into his quarters and set about her cuts and bruises with an outdated dermal regenerator, then pressed a portion of maka leaves into her trembling hands. When brewed into a tea, it helped anxiety and took the edge off her pain, something Hadar never cared to think about.

Tel scowled up at him. "Why can't I go? You haven't given me a day off in weeks, Laia got to go to the market yesterday!"

"You know the rules, Tel," Artem replied, not phased by her insolence, "no conjugal visits. You're lucky you haven't been caught yet."

"I just want to see him!" she complained. Taking a new track, she batted her eyelashes up at him. "Come on, Artem. I'll make it worth your while..."

Shale snorted with laughter; Laia shook her head, casting her eyes heavenward. Naprem watched with growing amusement - she still wasn't quite used to the casual way in which the more experienced women treated sex as a bargaining tool, as if offering their bodies up for simple favours was of no more consequence to them than trading some extra bread at the dinner table.

"Tempting," Artem replied drily. "The answer's still no."

Pretence gone, Tel stamped her foot in temper. "This is blatant favouritism! You're a bitter old man on a power trip, who doesn't want anyone else around him to be happy!"

"I'm thirty-five!" Artem said indignantly as she strode past him. A moment later, they all winced as she slammed her bedroom door shut, the bang ricocheting down the corridor.

"Go easy on her," Laia chided as she rose from her seat. "She misses him."

"And I miss having peace and quiet," Artem shot back. He gestured towards the padd in his hands. "No one for you tonight if you want to go see her. Try not to curse my name too loudly, I want to meditate later."

Laia rolled her eyes, but gave his arm a comforting squeeze as she passed him on her way out. Artem cleared his throat.

"Quiet night, again, ladies," he said, a little gruffly. "Shale, you've got an appointment with your newest fan upstairs at 2200 hours, only an hour. Naprem, Hadar wants to see you again."

She groaned softly and pushed away her half-finished bowl of stew, suddenly not hungry. Across the table, Shale looked outraged, her thick dark brows drew tightly together and she looked from Artem to Naprem and back again.

"That's the fifth night this week!" she exclaimed, as if the other two hadn't been keeping track. "Look, send me instead - Glinn Temet is nice and it's only an hour, I can see Hadar tonight."

"I can't do that, he asked for Naprem personally," Artem replied heavily.

"But she's exhausted!" Shale insisted. "Look at the poor girl! Tell Hadar she's ill!"

"Enough, Shale," Artem snapped, his patience finally snapping. "Go and get ready for your appointment, let Naprem worry about her own."

Naprem tried to smile at Shale, then looked listlessly down into her bowl as Artem took Laia's seat. The door slammed shut, and suddenly the room was silent as they were left alone together.

"I know you'd send someone else if you could," Naprem said quietly, glancing up at him. "I know it's not your fault."

"Thanks," he muttered, rubbing a hand over his tired face. "For what it's worth, I'm sorry that Hadar seems to have taken such a ... rabid ... interest in you. I heard talk that he was thinking of taking you as his mistress."

Naprem closed her eyes. It was a despicable thought. She'd be locked away upstairs, with only him for company, and only when he wanted attending to. At least with her job here, she could return to her own room every night and there was an end in sight, even if two years seemed like centuries away. A soft touch on the back of her hand made her open her eyes.

"I shouldn't have told you. It's just a rumour," Artem said softly. "For what it's worth, I don't think it's true. He wants to make money from you: he can't do that if no one is paying for you."

"You're not really making me feel better," she said, laughing a little as she dabbed at her eyes. "Oh, Prophets, what a life. I'll need to do something bad tonight."

Artem smiled wryly, recognising she wasn't serious. "I'm sure Tel could teach you a thing or two."

 

"Ah... shit! Oh, _girl_..."

Naprem flinched as his grip on her hips tightened like a vice and he slammed hard into her with a loud groan, his hips crashing against her backside. The bed creaked and rocked underneath them, broadcasting its obscene message to anyone nearby, and she closed her eyes, trying to picture someone - _anyone_ \- else behind her.

"Tell me you want it harder," Hadar hissed. His nails scraped over her skin, leaving raised red welts in their path.

"I..." Naprem swallowed, and then bit back a gasp as he pounded into her. She grabbed fistfuls of the sheets, trying not to collapse under his frantic movements. Her voice felt caught in her throat. "I..."

"Tell me!" he snarled.

"I... I want it..." She whimpered softly as his nails pierced her lower back. "I want it... h-harder, sir."

Hadar slammed against her one last time and let out some obscenity in Kardasi, his legs shuddering against the backs of her thighs as he came. Naprem screwed her eyes shut tightly and sent up a silent prayer of thanks: he'd been quick tonight.

"Alright, you can get up," he grumbled a few moments later. Moving away, he flopped down on the bed with a loud sigh of satisfaction, his cock slowly slipping back into his ajan.

"Thank you, sir," she murmured, averting her gaze as she hurriedly pulled on her nightdress. She hated looking at him afterwards; seeing that heavy, sated expression made her stomach turn.

"Keep that up and I'll slip a few extra rations in your packet next month," he grunted.

"That would be very generous of you," she demurred, slipping her underwear back on. His come leaked out of her, she could already smell its foul salty odour, and that combined with Artem's words earlier made her start to feel sick, a coiling nausea that wrapped around her gut and squeezed. If it was true, if he really intended on keeping her for himself, she might never see her family again, and she only had a limited window in which to make her goodbyes.

Hadar grunted in acknowledgement and pulled the blankets over his lap, settling down for sleep. Naprem stood up and then hesitated, fidgeting with her hands as she battled briefly over whether to voice her request.

"Sir," she started tentatively. "My mother... she's due soon."

"And?" He yawned widely.

"I was wondering... perhaps I could be allowed to visit them once the baby is born?" She held her breath as he squinted up at her, looking mildly irritated.

"You haven't been here long enough to earn a travel pass."

"They don't live far away," Naprem persisted. "I could go on my rest day and be back before evening meal is served; I won't have to miss any nights. Please, sir. I'd be very grateful."

Hadar scratched at his shoulder, scowling.

"I'll think about it," he said eventually. "Go, I want to sleep."

Naprem curtsied, feeling a rush of triumph, and bid him goodnight before scurrying out the door, feeling Hadar's eyes boring into her back as she went.

Days passed and turned into weeks, until one afternoon as she sat polishing a heavy cuirass, a dalin whose name she didn't know arrived in the galley and barked at her to go up to Hadar's office. The other servants burst into another round of mutters and giggles as she got up, wearily, and followed the dalin out into the corridor. Hadar had only sent for her during the work day once before, and it had been a most unpleasant encounter: he'd worked up a temper going over the latest figures from the nearby labour camps under his general command and needed to have release. She'd left half an hour later, limping, one eye rapidly swelling shut.

However, as she opened the door to his office, he smiled at her. Instantly she was on her guard. 

"Come and sit down," he said, motioning to the sofa. "I have some news for you."

Her heart started to thud as he came and sat near her. Was this the day he'd finally steal her away from the lower floor? Her palms began to sweat and she clasped them to her thighs. She looked plain in her dark grey tunic and trousers, with her hair piled into a neat twist at the back of her head; perhaps, that would be enough to calm his affections until later at least.

"I've considered your request," he announced. "And I've decided to grant it, provided you do something for me in exchange."

Naprem felt dread begin to build up in her belly. This was it; any small token of freedom she had was slipping through her fingers. "What is that, sir?"

He stroked her knee idly. "I've got a very important visitor arriving next week. Gul Dukat, do you know of him?"

"Yes, sir," she whispered. There wasn't a living soul on Bajor who didn't know that name. She'd never seen his face but his very title and unlimited power over all their lives seemed to loom overhead like a dark cloud from which lightning would eventually strike.

"I want you to entertain him while he's staying here," Hadar said sternly. "Run his errands during the day, keep his bed warm at night. I want his every need catered to, do you understand? Whatever he wants, you give him - and if I'm satisfied with the results, you may return for a few hours to visit your family."

All of the new information raced around her mind at once: she wasn't to be Hadar's mistress - which was good - but she had to 'entertain' the Prefect of Bajor instead. He would be even harder on her than Hadar was, she was sure of it. From what she'd seen of the Cardassians, they didn't ascend through the ranks without a cruel streak and an unhealthy hatred of Bajorans. But, if she made him happy, she'd get what she wanted in return. She'd been so homesick since she'd arrived that the thought of seeing her parents and siblings under almost any circumstances made her want to burst into tears of joy, and so she simply nodded dumbly, unable to find the words to respond. Hadar squeezed her knee.

"Good girl. You've settled in well here, haven't you?" he mused, considering her carefully. "I've never had a Bajoran woman that's been quite as... appealing as you have proved to be. Yes, you're a good girl. I have work to do for now... but come to me after your dinner. You can thank me properly tonight."


	4. The Shepherd

A bad mood had settled over the house in the week leading up to Dukat's visit. Hadar was anxious and irritable, frequently showing up in various areas of the house to declare them "unclean", "unfit", or just generally "unacceptable", and the Cardassian servants took out their own anxiety over their Gul's bad mood on their Bajoran counterparts. Naprem escaped the worst of the torment, they knew better than to mark Hadar's favourite. Others weren't so lucky: Tel worked in the kitchen, and had to be rushed to the nearby medical centre when one of the Cardassian chefs, in an apparent accident, knocked over a pot of boiling water - scalding her legs terribly. She'd been gone for four days while they treated her burns, leaving Naprem to her thoughts at night. Artem had withdrawn, only coming out of his office to go to bed or deliver assignments, which he did without looking at them. Even Shale, ever the loudmouth, was quiet.

Tel was still missing as the weekend approached and Naprem missed her company badly. Nights in their room were quiet and all she had to think about was Gul Dukat. The night before his arrival, she lay awake, staring up at the ceiling, trying to calm her frazzled nerves so that she could get some sleep. A soft knock on her door made her sit up and her mouth fell open in surprise as Gul Hadar stepped into her tiny little room, stumbling slightly over his own feet, clutching a bottle of kanar.

"It's late," he drawled unnecessarily. "You should be asleep. Big day tomorrow."

He dropped down onto the end of her bed with a groan and struggled to kick off his boots. Naprem clutched the sheets to her chest - with Tel away and the high temperatures of the house, she'd taken to sleeping naked. Hadar's boots landed with dull thumps on the bare floor, and he took a large swig of kanar.

"You ever tried this?" he asked, slurring his words as he motioned to the bottle.

"No, sir," she replied, nonplussed. Hadar had never come down to her room before and she'd never seen him this intoxicated.

He beckoned her forward and Naprem reluctantly obeyed, dropping the sheet to crawl down the bed towards him. With a gleam of anticipation in his eye, Hadar tipped the bottle back, pouring the thick, bitter liquid down Naprem's throat. She coughed, making him chuckle.

"Bajoran women can't appreciate a good vintage of kanar," he mused. "Only one of the many things that makes Cardassian females infinitely superior. Although... you certainly have your uses. You, in particular..." He sucked in a deep breath as he reached out to fondle her right breast. His thumb dragged over her nipple, teasing it until it hardened. "You... please me."

She stayed quiet, just watching as he swallowed the last of the kanar and tossed the bottle down onto the floor. It didn't smash, but landed with a dull thunk and rolled away, disappearing under Tel's empty bed.

"Help me get undressed," he ordered groggily.

"Sir, perhaps-"

His caress turned into a pinch and Naprem sucked in a pained breath, then set about undoing his shirt. Hadar reached out and petted her hair clumsily.

"I wanted to take you for my own, you know," he slurred. "My own to have whenever I please. The thought of a pretty little thing waiting for me in my bed every night... always at my beck and call... I take you away from here often enough that you don't make me much money anyway."

It was true. Unlike the others, Naprem very rarely saw visiting customers. At first, Hadar had been too intrigued by his new toy, then as the weeks had progressed and it had become a habit, he became possessive, unwilling to share his plaything with lesser men. Her hands shook as she pulled down his pants.

"But that's impossible now," he grumbled, kicking them off.

"It is?" she replied, not even daring to get her hopes up.

"Mmm," he grunted. "She'll catch me. Not worth the trouble."

"Who'll catch you?" Naprem asked curiously as he laid back on her narrow single bed. He beckoned her forward and she moved a leg over his waist so that she straddled his lap and automatically reached down to caress his ajan, the way he liked before he everted.

Hadar muttered a name in Kardasi and then tugged on her hips, ending the conversation.

 

The next evening arrived far too quickly for Naprem's liking. Hadar wanted to see her in his office before she went to Dukat, probably just to inspect her, but she was irritated and made no move to hurry. He'd fallen asleep a few minutes into sex the night before - which she'd been thankful for - but as soon as she'd carefully climbed off him, intending to sleep in Tel's bed, he'd suddenly pulled her down and rolled half on top of her, practically suffocating her for most of the night. When he'd woken in the morning, he had seemed surprised by his surroundings and then attempted to finish what they'd started hours earlier, but his body was exhausted and hungover and wouldn't co-operate. Frustrated, he'd reprimanded her for not waking him earlier and then had stormed off, leaving her with a foul mood and aching muscles in her back and neck.

Artem drummed his fingers on the bathroom counter in irritation as he waited for her to finish getting ready. Naprem leaned forward toward the mirror as she applied her mascara, saying with equal irritation, "That isn't making me go any faster."

"You have to be up there in five minutes," he reminded her tersely. "You aren't even dressed yet."

"I've seen quite enough of Gul Hadar for one day, thank you," she replied, slamming her mascara back into the make-up bag. "I don't understand why he wants to see me now anyway."

"Why don't you get dressed and we can go and find out."

"Nice try."

"Naprem." Artem's voice was stern, and she glanced over at him uncertainly. "You are not in charge here, you do as you're told or you'll be punished, and that is that. Put your clothes on and let's go."

"Punished by you or Hadar?" she scoffed.

"Both," Artem replied darkly. "Now, hurry up."

"Artem, I don't _want_ to," she huffed, crossing her arms. "I look exactly the same as I always do, I'm going to wear what he sent down for me, what more does he need to know?"

Finally out of patience, Artem picked up her hairbrush from the counter and pointed it at her. 

"If you don't have that nightdress on in the next thirty seconds, I will put you over my knee right here and make sure you can't sit for a week!"

 

"Tel's right," Naprem muttered furiously under her breath as they approached Hadar's office. "You are a bitter old man."

"Yet here you are on time, with no punishment from me or Hadar," Artem snapped back. "And believe me, his would have been much worse than anything I threatened you with. Now, do yourself a favour and drop the bratty attitude before you go in."

"I'm not a brat!" she retorted indignantly. "I've already had to put up with him all night and pawing at me this morning, I don't see why he-"

Artem reached out and knocked on the door, a millisecond before it flew open and Hadar glared down at them with a face like thunder.

"Cutting it a bit close, Artem, aren't you?" he snapped. Before the Bajoran could respond, Hadar grabbed Naprem's arm and pulled her roughly inside, slamming the door behind them.

"Stand there and let me look at you," he ordered. He glared at the obstinate look on her face and asked sharply, "What's wrong with you?"

"I didn't sleep well last night, sir," she replied stiffly.

Hadar narrowed his eyes at her, then turned and went back behind his desk where he bent to pick something up. Naprem shrank back a little as he approached her, holding a long, thin cane, Artem's warning ringing in her ears.

"Do you know what this is used for?" he asked.

"No, sir," she whispered.

Hadar grasped her jaw with his free hand and said softly, "If I hear one single complaint, from Dukat, from Artem, from anyone else, I will whip the soles of your feet until they bleed, and then some more. Am I understood?"

"Perfectly, sir," she said through gritted teeth. "You won't hear any complaints."

His grip tightened painfully, then he smiled coldly and replied, "Good girl. I'm putting a lot of trust in you tonight. Now, get rid of that scowl, take that bottle of kanar and head down to his room. Artem will take you."

 

"Two different men have threatened to beat me today," Naprem grumbled. "And you all wonder why I'm in a bad mood."

Artem snorted. He'd let her take a quick break to compose herself before they walked along to the other side of the house, having seen that whatever Hadar had said to her inside his office had shaken her, and they both stood half-hidden in an alcove carved into the wall. 

"I threatened you with a spanking, don't be over-dramatic. Besides, it was nothing you didn't deserve." He scratched his chin and mused, "Sometimes, I think you all forget that I'm your employer and you are actually meant to do as I say. If you'd refused to see Hadar earlier, what do you think would have happened? He'd have come down here and given you much more than a few smacks on your backside, and then probably would have punished me for failing to control you."

Naprem scuffed at the carpet and murmured, "I'm sorry, I didn't think of that. I'm just tired, Artem. My head hurts, my neck hurts, my back... well, you get the picture. I've hardly slept all week."

"You need to relax," Artem noted."You need to let go of your stress before it interferes with your pagh."

"I know what I'm _meant_ to do, but how can I do that when you're taking me to the most powerful Cardassian in the star system?" Naprem replied, twisting her hands together. "It feels like there's bats flying around in my stomach!"

"Weren't you ever taught to meditate?" he asked.

"I've never even seen a vedek, Artem," she said, rolling her eyes. "And I've spent my entire life looking after small children and trying to earn whatever money I can. That doesn't leave a whole lot of time for sitting still, doing nothing."

"I could teach you," he offered.

Surprised, Naprem looked at him then narrowed her eyes. "You're just trying to make up for earlier."

Artem smiled and shook his head, saying, "I'm starting to think Tel is a bad influence on you, maybe I should move you to another room before the damage becomes permanent."

"Then she'll just corrupt someone else," Naprem shot back, though she was starting to smile now as well, her bad mood lifting slightly. "You should just give me up as a lost cause and avoid our room altogether."

"Hmm, I think I'll hold out for a little while longer," he commented. "You're just having a bad week."

"One in a series of many," Naprem said bleakly. She sighed and shook her head. "I need to stop talking like that. I have to be happy for Gul Dukat, don't I?"

"Probably the best plan. Right, let's go, we've stalled long enough." 

They stopped outside the last door in the corridor and Artem motioned for her to go in. 

"He'll be along shortly."

"Will you come back and get me later?" Naprem asked suddenly as he turned to leave.

Artem paused. "I will, if he wants you to leave. Just do whatever he tells you and everything will be fine."

Naprem watched him leave and then braced herself, and opened the door. Dukat had been appointed the best guest room in the manor. It was a large, well appointed double room with a private bathroom and balcony and Naprem went to stand at the glass doors, admiring the view of the hills in the distance as the sun began to set behind them. It had been a hideously cold winter that had leeched into spring and even summer, causing late blooming and most likely harvest failures to come later in the year. She’d heard people speculate that the cold weather in Dakhur Province over the last few years was caused by the environmental damage from the Cardassian mining efforts all over the planet, and that thought struck grief and anger deep inside her heart, for it meant that Bajor may never recover from the Occupation. Her once beautiful planet would be forever tarnished.

A noise behind her made her start, and she turned just in time to see a tall, lean Cardassian man open the bedroom door. When she was little, Naprem used to hide behind the curtains in the family apartment whenever there were loud noises outside in the street, and now in front of this famed monster, the Prefect of Bajor, she felt the childish urge to do so again.

Disarmingly, he flashed her a friendly smile.

“Good evening,” he said. “Your name is?”

“Naprem, sir,” she replied, trying to surreptitiously wipe her sweating palms on the back of her nightdress. Hadar had ordered her to dress up, it was a tiny negligee made from black satin and lace that had thin straps, a plunging neckline, and stopped midway down her thighs.

“How appropriate,” he mused as he approached her slowly. “A beautiful name for a beautiful woman. Ah, I see you’ve brought me a gift.”

Naprem glanced at the bottle of kanar that she’d left on the nightstand after she arrived.

“I have to admit, I prefer spring wine to kanar,” he said with a smile. “But that stays between us, hmm? If my men found out I preferred Bajoran alcohol…” He trailed off with a light chuckle then beckoned her towards the bed. “Come and sit with me.”

She perched on the edge of the mattress, fidgeting with her hands, as he went to the small cooling unit in the corner, and retrieved a bottle of wine. Curious, Naprem watched him surreptiously as he collected two glasses. He was fairly tall, and lean – much leaner than Hadar, whose heavy weight was the direct cause of her aching back – and he moved much more gracefully, but still with purpose. He turned, and the light caught his face in just such a way that he looked almost…

"Regal," she murmured, without thinking.

Dukat turned, holding the two full glasses. "Excuse me?"

"Nothing," Naprem said hurriedly, flushing red. His hearing was better than Hadar's, too.

"Ah... that's better," he said settling back down next to her. "Now, what shall we toast to?"

The request caught her off-guard and she panicked internally for a moment before pasting on – what she hoped was – an alluring smile. “Whatever you like.”

“Then, to new friendships,” Dukat replied, though she could see the laughter in his eyes as he clinked the rim of his glass lightly against hers.

The wine was refreshingly cool and she drank far too much in one go, grateful to just have some rehydration after hours in the high temperatures downstairs. Dukat watched her, only sipping once at his own glass.

“Gul Hadar is very taken with you, you know,” he said, finally. His tone was still light, conversational; he still made no move to touch her. 

"Yes," Naprem murmured. 

Dukat waited for her to elaborate, but she stayed quiet, and then he chuckled, a rich, earthy noise that was devoid of any of the normal cruelty that Cardassian mirth usually held. 

"You're a quiet little thing, aren't you?" he said amusedly.

Naprem smiled a little and ducked her head. "Men don't usually hire me to talk, sir."

"I suppose not," he agreed. At last, he touched her; his hand rested lightly on the small of her back, the tips of his fingers moved slightly over the satin of her nightdress in a gentle caress. "Still, the night is young and I enjoy good conversation. Would you like some more wine?"

"Oh..." Naprem looked down into her glass and saw it was almost empty already. "Yes, please."

As he poured some more of the fizzing amber liquid into her glass, he watched her. 

"You seem nervous," he said with a sigh. "Whatever you've heard about me, Naprem, I can assure you that you have nothing to fear tonight. Why don't you tell me a little about yourself, hmm?"

"What do you want to know, sir?" she asked dully. Her head was starting to feel a little fuzzy and she stared down into her glass, watching the tiny bubbles as they fizzed up to the top. She didn't want to talk to him. She felt ill. All she wanted was a travel pass.

Dukat sighed again and reached up to stroke her cheek. The contact was gentle and Naprem closed her eyes, trying to ward off a sudden need to cry. He plucked the glass of wine from her hand and she didn't protest. She so rarely drank alcohol that even that one glass was enough to make the room spin.

"You're unhappy here," he said at last.

The corners of her mouth twisted up slightly at that, and she shook her head, replying firmly, "It's not my job to feel happy. I'm here to make others happy instead. The men who come here... Gul Hadar... they want my body, not my thoughts and feelings. I don't mind."

"Naprem," he coaxed. "When was the last time a man made you feel happy?"

She couldn't speak. The Cardassians never used her name; most of them couldn't pronounce it, their naturally harsh accents mangled the lilt in the first syllable. Hadar only ever called her 'girl'. Dukat's accent was perfect.

"When?" he repeated, caressing her cheek again.

"I don't remember," she whispered. A tear leaked out from her tightly shut eyelids and she reached up quickly to wipe it away - but not quickly enough. His thumb carefully wiped the tear from her cheek, and that was her undoing.

"I'm sorry!" she managed to gasp, "I just... I can't!"

Then she fled, not daring to look back.


	5. Always Be Good

The journey to Dukat's quarters the next evening took twice as long. Artem let her lean on him when there were no Cardassians around to take some of the weight off her injured feet, but she was holding back tears by the time they made it to the top floor. Each welt throbbed painfully; she hadn't even been able to put shoes on. Hadar hadn't beaten her as badly as he had threatened - but only because Dukat had asked to see her again and he didn't want her unfit for the task. Still, the pain was intense and the threat of even more after Dukat's departure made her feel nauseated and miserable.

"No running," Artem said flatly as they came to a stop outside Dukat's bedroom door. "Go in, paste on your best smile, and get it over with. I'll carry you back down, there's a fresh ice pack chilling in the cooler and plenty of maka leaves."

"I couldn't run even if I wanted to," Naprem said with a shaky laugh. She took Artem's hand and gave it a little squeeze. "I'll behave, I promise."

With a loud exhale, he reached out and rapped smartly on the door. Just a few seconds later, the familiar voice on the other side made Naprem's stomach flip, and soon enough, Dukat was standing in the doorway, smiling down at her. She lowered her gaze to the floor, and realised for the first time that her feet had left faint bloody smears along the corridor, as Artem and Dukat made the night's arrangements.

"No need," Dukat said smoothly, as Artem explained how to call for him to escort Naprem back downstairs, "She'll be staying here for the rest of my visit."

Artem hesitated and Naprem glanced back at him, her eyes wide. Their gaze met for a moment and then Artem slipped back into his role. Patting Naprem on her lower back to urge her forwards into Dukat's room, he replied, "Of course, sir."

Her sore soles scraped uncomfortably against the carpet, and the click of the door locking behind her felt as loud as a thunderclap. She straightened up, took a deep breath in, and turned to face Dukat, who was slowly approaching her. She had to do well tonight; she _had_ to please this man, in any way possible. Whatever it took, she had to get back into Hadar's good graces if she wanted any chance of escaping more punishment and earning that coveted travel pass. With a deep breath, she quickly shed the black satin nightgown that she'd mercifully been allowed to wear on the journey through the house.

"You look very nice," he commented lightly. His eyes travelled slowly over her scantily clad form, as if drinking her in.

"Thank you, sir," Naprem replied with a tentative smile. Laia had styled her hair into loose dark waves that framed her face and had applied just enough make-up to cover up the fact that she'd spent most of the previous night crying. A lacy black bra pushed up her breasts and contrasted nicely with her pale unblemished skin. His gaze went lower to her matching panties that left very little to the imagination, and he began to walk toward her as if entranced. Good, she thought with an inner sigh of relief, let's get this over with quickly this time.

"I'd offer you something to drink, but after last night I don't think that would be a good idea," he said, lifting a hand to gently caress her cheek.

The instinct to flinch away from a Cardassian touch had long ago been drummed out of her. Instead, she looked up at him with big, innocent eyes.

"I'm very sorry for my behaviour last night, sir," she said. "I'd like to make it up to you, if you'd allow it."

"Hmm... and how do you plan on doing that?" Dukat asked.

Smiling coyly, she reached out between them and began to undo his belt. Dukat chuckled lightly and his hand dropped from her cheek.

She expected to be ordered down onto her knees or pushed back onto the bed; instead, he did something that took her breath away. He deftly caught her hands before she could undo the buckle and then, before she could react, dipped his head and kissed her softly on the lips. Naprem immediately froze. Cardassians didn't kiss! She hadn't been kissed once in the months that she'd been forced to service them; Hadar had pushed her face away roughly the first time she had tried, ignorant of their customs, and after that she had never dared try it again.

But here, in this bedroom where she'd been so sure she'd be met with pain and humiliation, Dukat was kissing her. He pulled her closer with his free hand on the small of her back, the other hand moved back up to her face. His lips were thin, but soft, and Naprem couldn’t help but whimper a little as he deepened the kiss, his tongue sliding between her lips, tickling the tip of her tongue. Could it be true, what he had said the night before? Was it even possible that he wanted to please her? The small cracks of doubt that had taken hold earlier now widened, allowing hope - such an elusive emotion these days - to shine through.

Slowly, still a little cautious, her hands moved up to rest on his chest and she relaxed into his embrace, returning the kiss languidly. There was no rush in his movements, no harshness in his touches. The hand on her back was warm. Oh, Prophets, she thought helplessly, as it moved to her hip. He felt _good_.

He pulled away and began to kiss her neck. It tickled and Naprem tried to squirm away, but he held her tightly and continued his assault on her sensitive skin until he reached her collarbone.

"What should I call you?" she asked, feeling a surge of something hot between her thighs as he leaned down to caress her backside.

"Dukat will do fine," he said with a smile. "Now... you look very pretty in this, but I bet you look even more beautiful out of it."

Naprem flushed a rosy pink and obediently shucked her lingerie until she stood naked before him. She bit her lip, suddenly worried. He'd probably had dozens of Bajoran women. She'd filled out a little in the months since she'd arrived, but Hadar was still often disparaging about her figure. But, Dukat had called her beautiful... and she could see no hint of disappointment in his expression as his eyes took her in.

Soon enough, he was out of his clothes as well and she glanced down at his ajan. He was already starting to evert and boldly, she wrapped her arms around his neck and drew him down for a long kiss. His hands were everywhere, stoking that fire that had started deep in the pit of her stomach after that first kiss. She melted into his arms, desperate for more of that feeling.

"Do you want me, Naprem?" he asked huskily as his hand strayed between her thighs. 

She was slick with arousal and his fingers moved over her folds, teasing and exploring; a far cry from the rough prods she usually received. She closed her eyes and nodded fervently, not trusting herself to speak in case she broke the spell he was weaving over her senses.

"Lie back," Dukat said, giving her a gentle push until the back of her knees hit the bed.

The covers were soft against her bare skin and she reached out hungrily for him. Again, he defied her expectations and instead of pinning her down to the bed with his weight, he knelt on the floor and parted her legs. He must want to look at me, Naprem thought non-plussed, and she lay back placidly. The first flick of his tongue made her squeal in shock and she rocketed up onto her elbows to peer down at him. His face was buried between her thighs and his tongue was insistent, running over and around her clit again and again until she sank back down, gasping for breath.

"I want you to come for me, Naprem," he ordered, pressing a kiss to the inside of her left thigh. 

"I-I don't know how," she whimpered.

"Relax," he soothed, his voice silky smooth. "I'm going to do all the work... just concentrate on how good it feels."

Naprem closed her eyes and bit her lip hard as he returned his attentions to her clit. Over and over his tongue swirled around it, never direct enough to overstimulate - just enough to work her up into a near frenzy. By the time he pushed a long finger inside her, she was clutching at the sheets with both fists and begging loudly for more. Everything inside her was starting to tense and it felt so good, so good that she couldn't control herself.

"Ohh..." she moaned. "Oh, don't stop, don't stop! Oh...yes... yes... YES!"

The pleasure contracted and everything in her mind went blank: all she could feel was satisfaction as her walls spasmed around his fingers, and she trembled as he gave her clit one last, long lick. A rosy flush spread from her cheeks down her neck to her chest and she collapsed, spent, breathing heavily.

"Oh, I've never felt anything like that," she said weakly. The last few tremors were still pulsing through her as Dukat moved over her, eyes gleaming with anticipation. She squirmed a little and spread her legs wider as she felt the blunt tip of his erection pressing against her opening. Often, when she had advanced warning that Hadar wanted her company, she secretly used lube to prepare herself before she went to his quarters... there was no need for it tonight.

Dukat pressed slowly inside her and she clutched at his upper arms, her nails leaving faint crescent shaped marks on his skin. As he settled himself fully inside her, she reached for him and pulled him down for a long, lazy kiss. Prophets, she'd never in a million years imagined she'd feel this much pleasure at the hands of a spoonhead. Even her meagre experience with Bajoran men paled in comparison.

He reached up to caress her breast as he began rocking his hips against hers, and Naprem covered his hand with hers, humming with delight as she felt him squeeze the sensitive flesh. 

"Tell me how good it feels," he commanded, sounding slightly breathless.

"It... it feels..." She trailed off, both distracted by his quickening thrusts and embarrassed: she wasn't used to dirty talk. What did he want her to say? Surely it was obvious how much she was enjoying him. "It feels wonderful."

Dukat laughed at that, then leaned down to kiss her neck. The bed began to creak as he started to move faster, and Naprem did her best to grind against him.

"Naprem..." he managed, his voice tight, "are you on birth control?"

She nodded quickly. "You can come inside me if you want."

He grunted in response and then hooked Naprem's knees in the crooks of his elbows, lifting her legs higher into the air so that he could pound into her even faster, even deeper. His cock rubbed her sensitive inner walls, and he was in just the right position for his irllun to rub against her clit, still sensitive from before, and she squealed loudly as the friction made her second orgasm begin to build. Higher and higher he took her, until she couldn't take it anymore, and she lost herself to the sensations. With his cock still ramming into her, it felt even better than the first time and her nails broke the skin on his arms as she clutched him through it. Her toes curled; her legs stiffened so tightly that they started to cramp, and she threw her head back to emit moans so loud that they could be heard halfway down the corridor.

Dukat wasn't far behind her: after just a few more thrusts, he stopped deep inside her and let out a long, strained groan. Naprem collapsed weakly against the sheets, dimly aware of him twitching inside her. He looked pleased with her, and she smiled, tiredly, and reached up to stroke his cheek with a sudden warm rush of affection for him. Dukat kissed the palm of her hand, then pulled out of her and flopped down onto the bed with a sigh of deep satisfaction.

"I'm exhausted," she admitted with a shy giggle. Her limbs felt heavy, and she could easily fall asleep.

"Not too exhausted, I hope," he replied. Reaching out to stroke her waist, he sighed again. "How has such a beautiful young thing never had an orgasm? Never even by yourself?"

She shook her head. "I shared a bed with my sisters at home, here I share a room with Tel. I've never had enough privacy."

"And none of the men you've seen here have satisfied you?"

"I don't see many customers, Gul Hadar likes to keep me to himself." Naprem's eyes widened as she suddenly realised the implications of what she was saying. "Not that I'm complaining about the Gul's performance, sir."

"I told you, Dukat is fine," he scolded lightly. "Hmm, well, I can see why Hadar favours you. I think we're going to have a lot of fun over the next few days."

 

"Well done," Hadar said patronisingly. "You managed to keep him happy, happy enough that he even wants to see you again at his next visit."

Naprem ducked her head to hide the smile she couldn't suppress. The last few days with Dukat had been a whirlwind of sex, conversation, romance... and more sex. The first time had been unbelievable - nothing had quite compared to that afterwards, but he made sure to leave her satisfied almost every time he pulled her back down onto the bed sheets for another session. She'd actually been sad to say goodbye to him earlier that morning; a concept that would have been laughable to her a mere four days ago.

"Seeing as you've done such a good job, we'll forgo the rest of your punishment," he said, as if bestowing a great reward upon her. "But, believe me: if you ever do anything like that again, I will have your hide. Do you understand this time?"

"Yes, sir," she answered obediently. The welts had started to fade; she'd barely noticed the pain for most of Dukat's visit. The grander rooms in the house had water showers and the hot water had stung badly enough to bring her to tears, but she had calmed down enough to return to Dukat with a smile on her face. Hesitantly, she clasped her hands tightly together in front of her and asked, "And my travel pass? May I still have one to visit my family, sir?"

"Hmm." He looked unimpressed by her request, but considered her thoughtfully, then beckoned her forwards.

Naprem's heart sank and her shoulders slumped as she forced herself toward him. As she left later, her knees scraped, her scalp aching where he'd tugged at her hair, and a foul taste in her sore mouth, she clutched her pass to her chest gratefully and greeted Artem with a teary smile. Finally, she'd see her family again.


	6. Oh, How I Need

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Fairly graphic description of rape, substance abuse, and general horrible nastiness.

Naprem rushed up to the checkpoint, her breath coming in gasps, burning in her lungs. She'd ran from the last transport stop and was already two hours late, with any luck Hadar wouldn't notice but judging from the smirk on Gil Datek's face, she was plain out of luck. He stepped out of the security hut and held up a hand, motioning for her to stop. She did so, her feet trudging through the gravelly dirt until she was motionless a foot in front of him. She hated Datek; as far as she knew, he hadn't engaged the services of any of the women, but he delighted in mocking and laughing at them whenever he passed by in the corridors.

"Arms up. You bring back any contraband?"

"No, sir," she said, glaring sullenly at the outline of the house further up the path. 

He ran the scanner over the outline of her body, then patted her down roughly for good measure, his fingers pinching at her flesh. Satisfied, he straightened up and nodded his head towards the house with a little smile. "You'd better hurry. They've been waiting for you."

Naprem swore under her breath as she started up the path. Great. So, Hadar was waiting for her which meant she was probably going to be punished, and then she'd have to deal with Artem's bad mood as well. Brilliant. Datek had communicated to the front entrance guards that she would be arriving and they let her through without comment. Scurrying towards the stairwell doors, she thought she was going to make it until she heard the shout from further back in the corridor - evidently, Datek had notified more than the guards.

Artem scowled at her as he stormed up the corridor, and before she could even open her mouth to respond, he grabbed her arm and started pulling her in a different direction.

"Ow!" she protested, trying to wriggle out of his iron grip. "Where are we going?"

"You've picked the worst possible night to piss him off, Prem," he snapped, not even looking at her as they passed through into the section of the house where she'd once had her interview with him. "What were you thinking, coming back this late?"

"I'm sorry," she grumbled, as they turned into a lower corridor. "I just... I couldn't leave them. It's been so long since I've seen them and they were so excited to see me... I sort of lost track of time... and didn't think Hadar would notice."

"Well, I hope it was worth it," Artem shot back. "In here."

He pulled her into a moderately large room, though one that was considerably less well appointed than the Cardassian rooms. A double bed was pushed up against the back wall, a desk on the right, and very little decorations. It was neat, efficient. Impersonal.

"Are these your rooms?" Naprem asked, curiousity briefly overwhelming her annoyance. "It's... nice."

"Go and get showered," Artem ordered flatly. "As quick as you can. I've brought lingerie up from your room; put that on, make yourself presentable and we'll go."

"I'm going up to Hadar?" she guessed, as he steered her towards his private bathroom,.

"No," he said shortly. "Now, hurry up."

 

Naprem shrank back against Artem's side as they approached the pool house. She'd been here once before with Hadar, and it had been one of her worst experiences so far. Forced to ride him as he slumped back in the jacuzzi, the water - heated to Cardassian comfort - had scalded her skin bright red, and it had been tender for days afterwards. But this time she could hear more voices. Cardassian voices.

"I don't want to go in there," she said in a small voice.

Artem said nothing but gave her a little gentle push forwards. The doors opened and Naprem lost her breath. The pool room was built as an extension onto the main house; it had a glass domed roof that was already partially steamed up from the jacuzzis that were dotted around, in which she caught sight of a few of the other women who'd already been summoned. Tel, Nala, and Shale were already in the pools with various glinns; Shale looked angry as hers yanked at her bikini.

"Ah, here's my little runaway!"

Naprem turned to see Hadar striding towards her. He seized her arm, his fingers bruising her. 

""Come on, I have some people who've been waiting to meet you, little one. They're very impatient."

Naprem cast one last pleading look at Artem, before Hadar pulled her away towards a group of three younger Cardassian men, grinning like hyenas as she approached.

"She is pretty," the tallest one said, his gaze flitting down to her barely covered breasts. 

Hadar chuckled and pushed Naprem towards the men, giving her a sharp slap on the rear to force her forward. "And very obliging, tonight's behaviour not withstanding. So, who wants her first?"

Naprem whirled around to stare in horror at him. 

"Please..." she breathed, feeling her whole body go numb. Hadar only scowled in response.

"She doesn't seem very well-trained," the one on the left drawled. "If we were on Terok Nor, she'd already be on her knees by now."

Hadar bristled indignantly. "Dukat had no problems with her, I can assure you."

The others laughed and the tall one stepped forward, reaching up to touch a lock of her hair that lay across her upper chest. "So, you've serviced our illustrious Prefect, girl? How was that?"

The atmosphere in the room seemed to change at that moment. Naprem looked around frantically, even though she knew there was nothing that could save her from these men. She caught sight of Tel, her dark hair fanned out across one of the loungers, apparently unconscious, as another Cardie stalked away from her. 

"Why don't we go somewhere a little more private, hmm?" the Cardassian holding her hair said with a cruel little laugh. "Hadar, are you coming?"

He waved them off. "I'll have my fun with her later. Bring her back in one piece is all I ask."

"No," Naprem whispered, as she was pushed and pulled to the darkest corner of the room. "No, no, no, no..."

"Come now," one crooned, even as he pushed her roughly to the tiled floor. "Don't make this harder than it has to be. We're all here to have a good time."

"She needs something to relax her, or it's going to be like fucking a vice," the oldest one said with disdain. "Open your mouth, girl."

Tears were streaking down Naprem's face and, as always, she had no choice but to obey. Slowly, she opened her mouth and the Cardassian pressed something onto her tongue. 

"Swallow," he ordered. "Now."

 

Naprem gazed up dreamily at the glass ceiling, trying half-heartedly to count the stars as they twinkled innocently above her. There were two moons out tonight – but she could never remember which was which. So many things to remember, she thought, emitting a languid sigh. So many pointless things. Like the name of the man currently on top of her, whose rancid kanar breath was huffing onto her neck each time he writhed against her.

She turned her face away from the heavens and considered him, a faint crease appearing in her brow. His face was hidden away against her skin, his black hair tickled her face, and she could just about peer over his shoulder. There were others, she realised. Watching her… laughing. More pointless information, she thought, relaxing back down against the heated tiles. It didn’t matter. 

Their voices echoed around her and she closed her eyes. Kardasi was an ugly language, she thought. Ugly and harsh, as if the Cardassian race was only bred for cruelty. She was glad she couldn’t understand; let them laugh. It didn’t matter. Nothing mattered.

The man was moving faster now, he was grunting and biting. It hurt, she supposed. But all she would do was lie and be quiet and consider the stars, and eventually it would stop. The sharp edge of more pain began to stab at the dull little bubble that her brain was wrapped in and she began to stir, muttering crossly and pushing at the man’s chest. She didn’t want to leave the bubble. The bubble was nice.

He seized her hands and pinned them to the floor, rising up and thumping against her in earnest. Naprem watched dizzily, his face blurring into two as he suddenly grimaced and froze. Something was throbbing dully between her legs and she lay obediently still. Was he coming or was it her own body protesting? Both, she realised dimly, as he pulled out of her, leaving a rush of fluid to follow him. 

Someone hauled her to her feet and she looked back down at the tiles as she teetered after her new master. Scarlet. She was sure they’d been white. Someone was shaking her but she remained staring at the tiles. They had definitely been white.

“You’ve given her too much,” Hadar complained. “I told you, five milligrams is enough.”

Something flat and hard slapped her smartly across the cheek and she blinked hard, twice, then turned to look up into Hadar’s eyes.

“I think there’s something wrong with the floor,” she said, or at least tried to say. She wasn’t sure her mouth had really moved at all.

Then she was moving again, and she was in someone else’s arms. This was a smell she liked and she didn’t try to say anything else as they bundled her up into their nice, strong cradle hold. The floor didn’t matter, she remembered, and a light laugh bubbled up out of her throat. It didn’t matter at all.

\---

Naprem sighed as Tel buried under her blankets with her the morning after, lying her head on her shoulder. The single bed was barely wide enough for both of them, but she let Tel curl up beside her, wincing as she accidentally brushed her bruises. She still felt numb, even though she was now completely sober. Something in her pagh had been worn down, ground under Cardassian boots. All she wanted to do was lie in bed and stare at the ceiling.

"Do you feel as bad as I do?" Tel murmured.

Naprem didn't say anything, but groped for Tel's hand and squeezed hard. Neither of them had been able to sleep since being dismissed from the party in the pool house. The drugs had slowly worn off over the small hours and then the pain had kicked in. Tel had moaned through the first few hours until it had gotten the best of her and she'd been reduced to crying.

"If I ever have to touch Rekad again, I'm going to bite his ugly dick off," she said shakily.

Naprem tried to laugh, but it came out as more of a sob, and Tel hugged her tightly.

"How were your family?" she asked softly. "They're all well?"

"Not well enough to justify this torture," Naprem replied bitterly. Her father's leg had gotten worse, he would never work in the factories again... which meant she'd probably have to stay with Hadar for another two years. Maybe even longer. The new baby was a tiny little thing, and Naprem feared she wouldn't see him again. The others were still too thin, too lethargic. She'd thought she'd be their hero, sacrificing her freedom and innocence for their well-being, but instead they were hardly better off than they'd been before and she was lying in a basement with blood drying on her legs.

A soft knock on their door made them both groan. Taking that as an invitation, Artem hesitantly entered, looking back at whoever was hovering anxiously behind him.

"Not really in the mood for a social visit, Artem," Tel called. 

Naprem grunted in agreement and pulled the blanket up over her face. She couldn't even bear to look at the man who'd led her into that den of animals. Tel had tried to reason with her already, as had Laia who had paid a brief visit before her shift in the kitchen, saying that there was nothing more he could have done, that he'd have only earned them all more punishment by refusing to send her to the pool house. Naprem didn't care. He could have at least _tried_. 

"More of a doctor's visit," she heard him reply. "Naprem?" 

Naprem stayed silent and still under the blankets, and Tel gave her hand a squeeze. After a moment's pause, she heard his shoes on the wooden floor, and then the bed sank under his weight. Gently, he peeled the blanket back. 

"Are you still bleeding?" he asked. 

"A little," she grumbled. "It's not as bad now." 

"I've got someone to take a look at you. She's a doctor," he explained. "She'd like to examine you, if that's alright." 

"Might as well," Naprem muttered as Tel returned to her own bed. "It's not like I have any modesty left after last night." 

Artem gave a nod and went to fetch whoever it was that he'd left in the corridor. Naprem groaned, too tired and sore to muster up anything resembling respect, as he returned with a young Cardassian woman clutching a medcase. 

"Prem, she's here to help you," Artem said, exasperated. 

The woman smiled slightly as she set her case down. "It's alright, Artem. I've had much worse receptions than that." 

Naprem glared at him then pushed the blankets aside with some difficulty. Her arms were covered in bruises where they'd held her down, but whatever drug it was they'd forced down her throat had left her as weak as a small child. She'd been put to bed wearing one of Artem's shirts and nothing else, and he looked away towards the door, as if planning his escape. 

"No," she said suddenly. "Don't you dare leave." 

The doctor held up her hands in faux surrender. "I promise I'm not going to hurt you." 

"No!" Naprem said fiercely. "I want him to see what they did to me. What _he_ led me to." 

Artem looked stunned, as if she'd slapped him across the face. The doctor shrugged and pulled on her gloves. "As you wish. Legs apart, please." 

Naprem winced and let out a low moan of pain as she spread her legs. Artem looked away and began to head for the door again. 

"Stay!" she cried angrily. "Look at what you did!" 

"I've seen enough, Prem!" he shouted back. The door slammed shut behind him and the doctor tutted. 

"He needs to work on that temper," she mused. "Always has been short. Right, this is going to be uncomfortable but try not to move. You, come and hold her hand." 

Tel slipped back obediently into Naprem's bed, her legs curled up beneath her, and wound her fingers around her friend's as she cried out in pain. The doctor frowned in concentration, and Naprem let out another shriek as she activated something near her entrance. 

"That's the worst of it," the doctor said. "Here come the pain meds." 

True to her word, within a few moments most of the pain ebbed away and a calming sensation of nothingness washed over her. Tel raised her eyebrows as Naprem sank back against the bed. 

"Very strong pain meds," the doctor added. 

"Who are you?" Naprem murmured. "I've never seen a Cardassian woman here before." 

"I don't come here often," she replied absentmindedly as she activated a tissue regenerator. "My last visit was about three years ago. My father doesn't particularly enjoy them." 

"You're Ziyal!" Tel exclaimed, brightening up as she put two and two together. 

The Cardassian looked up and chuckled, shaking her head. "My reputation precedes me." 

"I know that name," Naprem said, squinting up at the ceiling as if her memories were being replayed there. "The Gul... he said it to me once." 

"Gul Hadar is my father," Ziyal said with another of those little smiles, as if she were laughing at her own private joke. "I hope you won't hold that against me." 

"He sent you here to treat me?" Naprem asked, confused. Hadar had seemed irritated by her incapacitation, but she had assumed that was because he didn't get to fulfil his own selfish desires. "Why?" 

"I believe you've got an important visitor arriving at the end of the week," Ziyal replied. "And my father would do anything for Dukat's favour right now."


End file.
